This will probably be one of many Nepal blogs. There is so much to say. I never expected to come so close to such a large catastrophe, confronted not only with how delicate life is, but how quickly it can be taken away. 

Many of the following pictures are what I call "The Faces of Nepal". I am so thankful for the opportunity I had to trek in their country and for their allowing me to serve them. Our medical camps were a success, we treated over 900 people.  Though they are poor in our eyes, they are truly rich in spirit and soul. In the wake of the earthquake I am again reminded of how important that is. 

I was thinking of this the other morning. Though I would miss my home, my Vitamix, and some other random possessions, I would still be me and be able to continue on without them. In many ways the releasing of my bondage to them would actually be quite liberating. Though I would not purposefully seek out their destruction, I know that often in the ashes beauty emerges, and sometimes it is the very fire we seek to avoid that is so very much needed. 

I have received news from many friends in Nepal, though the loss is great, all of the people that I trekked with are okay including the couple I met on the plane ride from Seoul to Kathmandu. One of our medical personnel did break his shoulder when a building collapsed on him and though he was stranded for several days, was able to be air lifted to Kathmandu for medical care. I have also received word that many of the villages that we served are decimated, the loss has been great in the mountain areas. 

One such area is Timla. We trekked there to dedicate a hostel that was built for school children. As the school was centrally located, children in the outlying villages had to walk long distances to attend class.  The trek was very difficult to do in one day as it covered rugged terrain and high elevations, so many of the children were literally sleeping in the forests so they could have the opportunity to go to school.   Last year a neurologist and her partner heard about these children and decided to host a fundraiser to build them a place to stay. The hostel was nearly complete when we dedicated it just 1 week prior to the earthquake that would eventually destroy it. 

I spoke to a friend this morning who said one of our campsites is completely buried in stones. Had we been camping there we would have been also. It is sobering. 

So what to make of all this? What can I take away from this experience? 

Before the earthquake I would have reflected on a journal entry that I wrote: 

If I make it out of here without a parasite or TB I will have considered this trip a success. Going to the bathroom has also taken on a whole new meaning. I am pretty sure that some of the positions of "squatting" are advanced yoga moves. I also now understand what a real hole in the ground is and never expected that I could get the deed done in 5 seconds flat to avoid being bitten by prehistoric sized horseflies or getting covered in your own, or heaven forbid someone elses, feces in what is called "The Blue Taj." 

Literally it was a hole in the ground and you just squatted. Period. Needless to say Nepalese people have amazing dexterity and quad strength, I was envious. Between bathroom acrobatics and mastering my SheWee (a female urinary device that allows a woman to pee standing up..... I could even write my name) I feel very comfortable saying that I can conquer any toilet or un-toilet in the world. Yay! At one point on the trail Kim and I had a contest to see whose stream went the farthest, I think she won.

Surprisingly after the first 2-3 days of not showering you just get used to being dirty and at 3 weeks you didn't really seem to care. I could never tell if the smell was me, my fellow hiker, or the water buffalo that we were passing. To be honest, it all just blended together like a crock pot of soup and no one minded or at least admitted to. I got really comfortable using wet wipes and bandannas and just continued about my day. Throughout the trek my teeth were the cleanest part of my body; at least if I asked you about the smells I knew it wasn't my breath.

It was actually quite glorious. Minimal personal upkeep, hiking beautiful trails in the Himalayas, and helping people: trekking by day, sleeping under the stars at night, with a few medical clinics thrown in between.

Because most of my gear was carried by human porters, my light day pack contained only small essentials: rain gear, my SheWee, T.P, granola bars, sunscreen, water, and my camera. Unburden and unhurried along the mountain trails I was able to walk in simple joy being fully immersed in the world of Nepal.

In this immersion all of my senses came to life - sights so breathtaking that I know the lens of my eyes had difficulty capturing let alone the ones in my camera. Sounds of goats, water buffalo, and children shouting "Namaste" added to the trance like state I continued in. I have never felt more alive and more present as I did in Nepal. There was an inner peace that told me to live and experience life instead of trying to use it to fix what was wrong inside. Too often we manipulate the world to fix our inner problems instead of going to the root of our suffering, ourselves. Change comes from the inside; you don't use life, you live it.

I learned that physically, the secret of the ascent is to never look down but to always look up. This paralleled my feeling toward life as well. No matter what happens to you, turn your eyes upward and relax your heart. In practicing this we remain purified, unburden, and weightless, never having to know another fall.

I feel this way for Nepal now as I did then.  In reflection after the earthquake my blogs may be slightly different but my experience and heart for the country is not. I will continue to look up for this country and hold on to the inner peace that guides.  Where I would have once reflected on my overcoming the physical circumstances of this trek, I now know that through challenging what is familiar to me and daring to question my traditional needs for comfort and control I have come back changed in more ways than just physically. SheWee's and Taj's aside, living Nepal for a month was life changing.

I wish the same for the people of Nepal, that through overcoming the physical hardships of their loss and destruction, they too may also grow spiritually together.

If I had to pick a shape for this trip I would certainly pick a circle. A continuous loop where on the upstroke I felt like "I got it," but then shortly thereafter would be brought right back down. Up into awe, inspiration, admiration, and then back down into humility, uncertainty, and even sorrow.

What is great about a circle is that it continues over and over until you build up enough velocity to break through into a greater circle of awareness and encompass more. Here you experience anew what has always been.  When your eyes open wider to see the freshness of life, your heart has no other option but to embrace it again once more.

A circle for me represents inclusion without sharp angles. Too often in my life I lived with sharp angles that not only cut others but ultimately myself as well. In the "circle of life" we can appreciate how our rings may blend with others and join into unity. It is not linked in perspective alone, but is continuously evolving as it goes around and around to encompass more.

There is a real tragedy in keeping your circle too small or allowing it to become a life rut; an ordinary stale rhythm that spins in complacency. Many of us get stuck in the cycle of trying to be understood instead of understanding, and yearning to be loved instead of learning how to.

As I reflect on this last month and into the future, I know that only in being present can I truly get more than a glimpse of eternity. And eternity may very well be one large circle spinning altogether.